


For A Moment

by Outofthelabrynth



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: (Sorry Clown-Fuckers), Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Can you tell i really like using tags, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, I don't actually know how old they are in this but lets go with 16, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mentioned Losers Club (IT), Richie Tozier is a Mess, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak, This fic is basically just how i felt two years ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25395184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Outofthelabrynth/pseuds/Outofthelabrynth
Summary: "What do you do when you’re different in a town that thinks it’s wrong to be? Simple, you lie."But what do you do when you can't lie anymore?Perhaps Richie was about to find out.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	For A Moment

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Homophobic Slurs (The f slur), Internalised Homophobia, Swearing, Edited by Grammarly so there are probably some weird grammar mistakes.

Derry was no place to be different, a fact Richie Tozier had discovered a long time ago. It had been clear, from the way his friends were treated, the way he was treated, that anyone who didn’t fit into the town's perfect white mould could never truly belong there. They would only ever be the subject of hatred, of bullying. Sometimes, Richie thought it seemed like something evil lay below the town, poisoning everyone until they simply became hateful shells of a human, hell-bent on destroying anyone who dared to be different.

So what do you do when you’re different in a town that thinks it’s wrong to be? Simple, you lie. 

Of course, lying does come with its own problems. You see, when one lies, they begin to hide things, sometimes even parts of themself, and their lies become a dam blocking the truth. And so the trouble with lies, and dams by extension, is that sometimes they explode, and everything comes tumbling down and out. 

Perhaps that was what was happening now, Richie thought as he tried to ignore the sobs that racked his throat. Perhaps he had finally reached his breaking point and the dam walls had all come tumbling. Perhaps he couldn’t lie anymore, couldn’t deny what happened, couldn’t ignore the blood dripping from his forehead, a mirror of the tears dripping from his eyes. 

‘Boys shouldn’t cry!’ His mind screamed. He agreed. The tears running down his cheek were just yet another difference that separated him from belonging, another lie that was slowly breaking. 

“Richie?” A voice cut through his thoughts and Richie could almost laugh. He would recognize that voice anywhere, had heard it throw his name around enough times to commit it to memory. He glanced up to see the short boy making his way towards him, and he hastily scrubbed a hand across his cheeks, trying to rub away the remaining tell-tail snail-trail lines of tears that still shone on them. His tears would only complicate things, give him another thing he would have to attempt to lie about. However, all it took was one glance at Eddie's concerned expression to tell him the tear stains were still visible, and so he turned his eyes towards the ground again, squeezing them shut. The log he sat on shifted underneath him, and he could almost feel Eddie’s eyes trailing down his face, resting on the harsh cut just below his hairline. 

‘Eddie shouldn’t see you like this.’ His mind reminded him and, yet again, he agreed. 

Mustering up a false laugh, he turned to his friend with a painted expression of happiness on his face. His grin felt like a mask, covering the remaining tracks of tears with the curl of his lips. “Eduardo! Fancy seeing you here!”

“Richie,” The boy's tone was disapproving, yet it was laced with enough worry to let Richie know his mask had not been completely successful at covering his emotions. He didn’t reply, and in a swift movement, Eddie leaned across, pulling Richie’s face forward to examine the cut closer. “Richie!” He chastised again, and Richie felt a real grin slowly fight its way onto his face. At least when his world seemed to be breaking around him, Eddie stayed like a constant, something that would never change. “You need to get this cleaned up, it’ll cause an infection!”

“Ah, it’ll be fine.”

“I’m being serious Richie!” Richie felt his expression sour as he regarded Eddie, who had pulled away to begin to rummage through his bag. When the boys were younger, and Eddie had first started to worry about these things, Richie would have never expected he'd be sitting there with the same bag, same worries, all these years later. It wasn’t Eddies fault though, but rather his Mothers, Sonia. She was just another broken project of the town, another woman so scared that she attempted to pollute her own son. Though Richie supposed Eddie had been using his “gazebos” a lot less recently, so perhaps her poison hadn’t gotten deep enough to be irreversible.

“You’re going to get an infection and then you’re gonna get ill and die!” It seemed this was always the way; As soon as Richie began to have some hope for his friend, to think that maybe his wounds weren’t as deep as he thought, they always ended up being cut a little deeper. Still, it would probably do him best to try to avoid an infection, and perhaps it would help soothe Eddie's anxious mind for a moment. 

“Okay then Doctor Kasprak, fix me up!” 

“Oh, shut up Richie.” Eddie muttered, pulling out the supplies he would need from his bag. “This is going to hurt.” He began to softly wipe away the blood and begin cleaning the cut, shooting a glare at Richie when he shot back with a painful cry and an exaggerated clasp at his chest. 

“Oh no, Doctor Kasprak! It burns and ails me, please help!” 

“Don’t call me Doctor, Richie.” His tone was irritated, and Richie felt the usual uncomfortable tug in his chest at the idea of making the boy angry at him, before he hastily pushed those feelings away. This was the way he always acted. If Eddie was going to hate him for it, he was sure it would have happened a long time ago. He reached out to capture Eddie's cheek with a pinch- akin to the way a grandmother would- as another glare was thrown his way. 

“Well, what do you prefer then, Nurse Kasprak maybe?”

“No!”

“Oh, I can just imagine you! Running around in a little nurse's dress, so cute! So cute my little Eddie Spaghetti!” 

Eddie pulled away, and Richie was pleased to see his expression was more thoughtful than irritated. Eddie trailed a professional eye across his handiwork, inspecting the plaster that had replaced the oozing blood, before he turned his full attention to Richie’s face again, his expression slowly morphing back into annoyance. “Don’t you dare imagine me in a nurses costume Richie!” 

‘You made him uncomfortable. You were being weird.’ His mind whispered to him, and the laughter in the back of Richie's throat died as quickly as it began. It was right, he had been weird, and now his friend was irked as a result. He glanced away, mumbling out a quick, small, “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” Eddie’s expression shifted, the annoyance on it slowly edging into some sort of confusion. There also lingered a sense of playfulness there, the sort that would have made Richie laugh if he was still looking at him. “Since when does Richie Tozier apologize? What’s happened to you?”

“Nothing of your concern Eddie.”

This time, Eddie's glance was no longer confused, instead straying into something rather concerned. Perhaps it was a silly reason to become concerned, a strange thing for him to pick up on, yet he was sure he knew his friend, and the Richie Tozier he knew would never pass up the opportunity to make a joke or throw around a nickname. In fact, Eddie recalled, the last time Richie had acted like this was when he was ill and stuck in bed. Eddie spoke again, this time his voice taking on a softer tone. “Seriously, what happened?” 

Richies returning laugh was hollow, much more hollow than he meant it to be, and both the boys winced as the unusual sound rang in the air. “What do you think?” He gestured to the mark on his head, hair falling over his face, covering most of his expression. 

“Bowers?” 

“Ding ding ding and the prize goes to the lucky winner, Eddie Spaghetti!” Richie attempted to keep his voice playful, to maintain his usual teasing lilt, yet he couldn’t control the bitter undertone it contained. 

‘Now you’ve messed up. Now he knows something is wrong.’ His mind cackled, and not for the first time today he felt a pang of hatred towards his own brain. Because he knew, he could see the concerned expression on Eddie's face, could taste the bitterness of his own words on his tongue. Most of all though, he hated that his crutch of jokes seemed to be slowly falling out from under him, his coping mechanism seemingly evaporating in front of him. He wasn’t even sure he even knew how to lie anymore.

“What happened?”

The curly-haired boy toyed with his lip for a second before answering his friend's question. “I was at the arcade, turns out Bowers was there too.”

“Jeez, Why has he suddenly gotten even worse?” Eddie let out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was actually starting to lay off us when high school started, but he’s suddenly decided to get even worse. To you especially.”

Richie swallowed, the look in his eyes darkening for a second before he pushed his lips into a smile again. It felt like a strain to even do that. “Ah, well I may know the reason for that.”

“What's the reason?”

“Well, the truth is,” Richie nervously ran a hand through his unruly hair, debating what he was going to say as his mind continued to scream ‘don’t tell him, he would never understand, he would hate you.’ “Henry found out.”

“Found out what?”

“That I…” He took a deep, shaky breath before continuing. “That I fucked Henry's mum.”

He let the laughter spill from his lips, pushing away the taunts of ‘coward’ his brain shot at him. It seemed unfair to him that his brain could both tell him to lie, yet still attack him when he did just that. So he let himself laugh, pushing away those thoughts as he felt a small sliver of pride work its way into his heart. The smaller boy's mouth was twisted into a smile. It wasn’t too often Eddie actually liked his jokes instead of just being irritated and it sparked a nice feeling inside of Richie’s chest.

“Richie! Henry’s mum is dead!” 

“I know, that’s why he’s so angry!”

This time Eddie's smile turned to laughter, and for a moment Richie revelled in the feeling of making him laugh, his usually screaming mind silent. But the moment was all too short, and it was all too soon that Eddie's mouth twisted back into a worried frown and the dark shadow returned to its place over Richie's brain. 

“Seriously Richie, what’s going on?”

“I was at the arcade.” He started, moving to stare at his hands as though they were an interesting new discovery. Anything to avoid looking at how Eddie's expression would change when he told him. “And I was playing street fighter with this boy.”

“So?” Eddie let out a small laugh, one that rang in a way similar to smiles that don’t quite reach peoples eyes. “Richie, you’re always playing street fighter. Did he really decide to come back to bullying just to be a dick about that too now?” 

“No.” Richie's voice was low, and it was hard to tell whether he was even attempting a semi-positive voice anymore. “The boy, his name was Connor, and it turned out he was Henry’s cousin.” 

“Jesus, that boy is seriously twisted in the head if he thinks that’s a good reason to-” Eddie cut himself off as Richie threw him a look, and so Richie continued, his voice shaky.

“He didn’t like that I was talking to his cousin. He got some sort of idea into his head and it made him angry. So he did this.” He gestured to the plaster on his forehead, ignoring the screaming in his brain to stop talking and instead focusing on keeping his traitorous hands steady. He didn’t like it when they shook. It left him too vulnerable.

“Richie…”

“That’s not all. He called me...things. Names.”

“Well, he always used to call us names. That’s how we became the losers club.”

“No, but this was worse.” His mind still continued its cacophony and a sudden wave of fatigue ran over him. He was exhausted. He was so tired of it all. Of listening to his brain, of hiding, of lying. “He called me a fairy and-” He focused his eyes on a dot behind Eddie's shoulder, not bearing to actually face the boy, as the last remaining parts of a smile ebbed off his face. “He called me a faggot.”

“Oh, Richie.” Eddie’s voice held nothing but sympathy and worry, and Richie felt a spark of hope somewhere within him. He wasn’t sure what reaction he had been expecting exactly, his words could be loosely interpreted after all, but anything other than straight-up hatred was far enough from his expectations to spark hope. “God, Bowers is such a dick! But if he’s going to start acting like this again we should probably go and tell the other losers.”

“No.” Richie's voice held no playfulness, fake or otherwise, instead, it was low, dark, scared. 

“What?” Eddie asked, and Richie slowly trailed his eyes over until their eyes met. “Richie?”

The boy's reply was a quivering sob. It was like he crumbled back in on himself, his face twisting into his hands. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Eddie simply stared at him for a moment, startled and confused, as Richie continued to sob into his hands. Richie inhaled, stiffening slightly as he felt Eddies' small arms embrace his shaking form. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” The boy tried to soothe him, his embrace gentle. They stayed there for a moment, Eddie's arms snaked around Richie's frame before Richie turned his face to the side again. Even through his thick-rimmed glasses, the red tint to his eyes, and the tears in them were visible. 

“Eddie,” His voice was shaking, as was his body, and he shifted slightly so as to be closer to the smaller boy. “What if Henry’s right?”

“What?” Eddie's eyes were ringed with confusion, and Richie couldn’t resist the urge to look down again. It seemed that was all he knew how to do at the moment. Just look down, cry, and listen to the taunting screams of his brain. A hand reached up to his cheek, leading him to reach Eddies' eyes yet again and a choked sob fell from his lips as he saw how the boy was gazing at him. He had expected to see more confusion, even disgust in them, yet all that lingered there was concern. “Rich..” He started, and Richie almost flinched at how soft the nickname sounded falling from Eddies' lips, how much obvious care it was filled with. He wondered briefly if it would still be as care filled after he explained himself, whether Eddie would ever regard him with such a caring look ever again. ‘He won’t.’ His mind taunted, and he bit back the urge to scream. What he would be screaming at, himself, his brain, Eddie, he wasn’t sure. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Richie shifted again, yet his eyes didn’t stray away from Eddies. “What if I actually am the thing Henry called me?” He uttered the last couple of words in a whisper, and immediately he felt his stomach drop. All he wanted to do was just pull away from Eddies' eyes and hide in the solace of his own hands, but the warm hand on his cheek, the still caring expression in Eddie’s eyes kept him from turning away. It still didn’t make sense. How his friend could still look at him with such sincere care even after the shameful thing he had just admitted. Why wasn’t he shouting at him? Why wasn’t he running away, wasn’t telling the other losers? Why wasn’t he about to lose his best friend? Why was Eddie’s hand still cradling his cheek with such care?

‘It won’t be for much longer.’ His brain cried, and Richie hated to admit that he thought it was probably right. He felt almost positive, though it made him want to weep, that the things he had listed were certain to happen

“What if you are?” Eddie murmured, and even he seemed to look momentarily surprised at the words that had fallen lazily out of his mouth. It took a second for Eddie's face to regain any sense of collectiveness again, and this time there was something else lingering in his eyes, something that was difficult for Richie to place. He was surprised to see it wasn’t anger, in fact, if Richie was in a different state, he might have found it something more akin to hope. Eddie spoke again, his voice lower. “Seriously Richie, so what if you are?

“It’s wrong.” Richie's answer was sharp, the same answer his brain had drilled into him for years, and he couldn’t pretend he didn’t see the slight wince in Eddie's eyes as he said it. His hand slowly moved to shadow Eddies, moving to cradle the brown-haired boy's cheek, marvelling at the soft blush that spread across it. He wasn’t entirely sure why the boy had winced (though his brain was screaming a myriad of Richie-Hatred centric ideas) but he knew he didn’t like it. It was wrong. A boy with a face such as Eddies did not deserve to suffer pain that would make it screw up in any way. With that thought, Richie felt an almost compelling instinct to pull away, to look around and check that no one else was there with him, to make sure that the only people there were just him, and Eddie, and the birds. But he fought away those thoughts, unable to tear his eyes away. He wasn’t entirely sure where it had come from, maybe it was just the embrace of Eddie’s eyes rooting him to the spot. He couldn’t deny, it was a nice embrace. 

“Is it?” Was Eddie’s soft reply, and the look in his eyes made Richie want to get up and shout for him that no, no, it isn’t wrong. Instead, he moved slowly closer, his eyes still firmly locked onto Eddies. He let out a shaky sigh, noting that the tears were no longer falling down his own cheeks. He was glad, he didn’t want Eddie to see him crying from this close. In fact, he was close enough now that he could see every colour in the boy's eyes, could see what looked like lingering specks of hope. There was uncertainty there too, lingering in the pupils.

But there was nothing uncertain about the way Eddie's hands clasped at his hair, pulling him closer until their lips met. 

It would be a lie to say Richie’s returning kiss wasn’t certain too. His hands fell to the small of Eddie's back, and the boys fell closer together, their bodies entwined. And, it would be another lie, to say Richie had never imagined this, to say he had never wondered what Eddie tasted like. As his hand moved back to its place on Eddie’s cheek, kissing him with soft jabs of his chin, he revelled slightly in his personal victory of finding out the answer. The taste of mint toothpaste lingered on Eddie's tongue and Richie could almost laugh. It had been one of his guesses, one of the things he dwelled on late at night, at the time when shameful thoughts seemed less shameful to think. His gloating thoughts, however, were quickly erased by the feeling of Eddie's lips on his, and Richie returned the kiss tenfold. He shivered as Eddie's hand traced a pattern down from his cheek to his neck, and a soft sound left his mouth, muffled by Eddies' lips. It wasn’t Richie’s first kiss, and he could safely assume it wasn’t Eddies either, but there was something about it that sparked a sense of euphoria he hadn’t felt in a while, making his brain feel as though it was giddy. Maybe it was just joy? Or even relief? He hardly knew. For a moment it seemed the dark part of his brain was silenced and he rejoiced in it, all he could focus on being Eddie and his lips. 

Eddie.  
His best friend.  
The boy he had known for years, who was sitting right next to him.  
The boy.  
He was kissing the boy who was sitting next to him.

Though his eyes were closed, Richie knew that this was something even he could not lie about; He was kissing a boy.

And god, Richie Tozier thought, he liked it. Liked the feeling of his chapped lips pressed against Eddies' soft ones. Liked how his hands slowly ran up and down the knobs of Eddie's spine. Liked how it made the boy seem to melt, falling closer to him. Liked how he was sitting there, slowly and simply falling apart at the touch of a boy. 

It wasn’t until he tasted the salt on his lips that he realized the tears had started to fall again, and the boys fell apart like they’d fallen together: With uncertainty and confusion in their eyes. 

As he pulled away, it felt as though his eyes were stuck together with the glue-like tears, the carelessness that had flooded his mind gone. He wasn’t even fully aware whether his mouth was turned into a smile or a grimace. And still, all his mind continued to scream was just “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” However it was no longer a joyful scream, but rather one that felt more like mental torture. His previous actions screamed at him, replaying in his mind a thousand times in just a few seconds. He almost wished for the dark part of his brain back, it was better than this constant truth-revealing screaming. 

As he looked up, he glanced quickly at Eddie's face, before turning his head back down again. Eddie was smiling. It was small, the corners of his lips turning up in a way that perhaps might not have been noticeable to most, but Richie knew Eddie enough to know the way the boy smiled. It was never as often as Richie would like, and hardly ever because of Richie himself. Rather, Eddie’s lips were usually more twisted into a “shut up Richie.”

Well, it was safe to say Richie was finally, sufficiently, shut up. His brain continued to spin, twisting in on itself with its mental torture. Maybe focusing on Eddies' lips wasn’t helping the matter, even if he was only looking at his smile.

Eddie’s hand moved back to cradle Richie's cheek again and Richie couldn’t help but flinch at the tenderness the small act held. It didn’t feel right, didn’t feel real, that he could still act so tenderly, so soft towards Richie, even after what had just happened. Even after the confirmation that what Henry had said was true. 

“What if,” Richie let the words claw their way out of his throat, bobbing his head as he attempted to brush away the boy's touch as if it meant nothing. ‘But it doesn’t mean nothing, it means too much.’ His brain called, and he had to choke back a scream because he knew, he fucking knew. He knew that the touch didn’t mean nothing, knew that it was pointless to even attempt to lie about that, but what he didn’t know was what else he could do. “What if Henry’s right? What if there really is something wrong with me?”

“There is nothing wrong with you.” Eddie's voice was soft but tense and Richie's brain spat out a bitter comment. ‘Pathetic, you’ve made him worry, when deep down even he knows something is wrong with you.’ He felt another sob fall from his lips as he tried desperately to convince himself that it wasn’t true. For Eddie had kissed him, and surely, he thought, that must mean something. ‘You fool.’ The dark thoughts cackled ‘You kissed him. It didn’t mean anything to him, it didn’t feel for him the way it felt to you.’

Air left his lungs, his heart chipping another piece of itself off in the process. Mental exhaustion racked his body and he let out a low, scornful laugh. He wanted nothing more for it to stop, for his brain to just rest again, but the dark thoughts were unrelenting as they continued to spread their plague. The sobs racked through his body and he felt a sudden spark of anger light up deep inside of him. He wasn’t even entirely sure what he was angry at. There was no reason for him to be angry at Eddie, yet he couldn’t help it when the next words to leave his mouth were close to a shout. “Oh really? How could you even say that after what just happened? God! How can you even bear to look at me!” It was like yet another string broke inside of him, and as a guttural sob left his mouth he stood, beginning to move a few paces away from Eddie, who was still regarding Richie with the same solicitous expression. He turned back after a moment, and the next time his voice spoke it no longer held anger. It was simply icy, low, broken. “Eddie, there is something seriously fucking wrong with me.”

And so Eddie stood up too, smoothening down his shirt as he glided over to the quivering boy. “Richie,” He started, and as the other boys' wet eyes met his he attempted a hopeful smile. He moved his hand to rest on Richies' cheek yet again, slowly trailing his finger across the slow, glistening lines of tears with a trembling hand. “If there's something wrong with you,” He cut off for a second as he felt Richie wince beneath his hand, and he bit his lip before continuing. As he spoke his next words, his eyes were earnest, and it was plain to see the fear that lingered there.“Then it’s wrong with me too.”

Richie blinked. And then again. Twice more. Just enough times to check that this was real, that this wasn’t just a fanciful dream. If he had felt able to move his hands, he probably would have pinched himself. He just needed to know, needed to be sure that he had heard the words correctly. Though his brain tried to twist the words in a multitude of ways, imagining hundreds and thousands of different scenarios and situations, there was no way it could succeed in twisting the meaning of Eddie's words. Richie’s arm moved slowly, haggardly, and it was all of a sudden when he pulled Eddie flush against him, his tears starting to fall into the shorter boy's hair as he moved his head to rest there.

The embrace was safe, safer than he felt in a long time, yet his brain still continued to shriek, echoing symphonies of the words Henry had used, words he had even called himself. Still, for a moment he did not care. He was exhausted. Too exhausted to even listen to the thoughts, too exhausted to not simply melt into Eddie as he tried to focus what was left of his attention and energy on the warm bundle of a person he was holding. As Eddie’s arms wound around his waist, the intensity of his feelings coming off in the pressure on his skin, Richie felt like he was resting for the first time in a long time.

After a while, Richie spoke again. His voice was hoarse, as though it had tried to run away from him. 

“I’m scared.” He choked out, clasping Eddie closer to him desperately as he felt the boy move to pull away. But Eddie simply moved to entwine their hands, moving his head away from Richie's chest to stare into his eyes. 

“What are you scared of?”

“This.” He answered truthfully, fear clear in his eyes as he looked down at Eddie. “I’m scared that this means I really am what Henry said.” 

“Do you really think that's a bad thing?” 

“I don’t know” His hands were still shaking as much as his voice, and Eddie pulled them closer, pulling them against his heart as though to steady them. Richie closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the dull beat of his friend's heartbeat against his fingers before he opened his eyes again..” I thought it was. But when I'm with you, like this, that part of my brain goes all scrambled. My brain just starts to work differently.”

“A good sort of different?”

“A scary sort of different, But yeah, I suppose a good sort too.”

Eddie bit his lip thoughtfully, his fingers slowly tracing a pattern onto Richie’s palm, and it was clear that he was picking his next reply carefully. “Well if it’s good, how can it be wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Richie whispered, moving so his forehead met Eddies. “I really don’t know.” 

“I do, Richie,” Eddie's voice was feather-light, his eyes trailing across Richie's face. He took his sweet time, savouring the soft freckles over his nose, the dimple on his left cheek. “And there is nothing wrong with us.” He moved again, slowly leaning their faces closer.

It wasn’t quite a kiss, their lips simply ghosting over each other. Richies' breath melted into the cold air as he swept his eyes down to Eddie’s lips, mulling over his words. For a moment, his brain was quiet again. They stayed like that for god knows how long, simply resting in place, in the fine line between a kiss and a distance. It was, after all, a nice place to rest. For a minute Richie thought back to his old science lessons. They were like two ends of a magnet, only this time Richie wasn’t entirely sure which ends they were. Would they attract, be compelled together, closer and closer until they met? Or would they come springing apart? As Eddie moved his arm to slowly entwine with Richie's hair, Richie shivered. The touch made him want to pull Eddie closer to him. The touch made him want to kiss him. However his brain was never quiet for long, and it was all too soon when the screaming resumed. ‘Don’t do this. Get away from him.’ and so Richie, like a horse broken to the saddle, did what he always did. He obeyed the screaming. 

“I can't.” He said, yet he still didn’t move, Instead just focusing his eyes to the floor once more. “I’m sorry I just can’t.”

“Why not?” Eddie’s voice was sad, though Richie wished he could pretend it wasn’t, and Richie was glad he hadn’t been looking into Eddie's eyes as he said it. The idea of seeing Eddie's beautiful eyes shrouded in that much sadness was too much for his already bandaged heart.

“It’s like I can’t let myself be happy.” He let out a shaky exhale, searching for a way to explain what he had just said, what he was thinking, what his brain was screaming. “I’m trying, I really am, but I can’t stop thinking of what this means, what it makes me, whether it’s wrong. “

“But Richie,” Eddie repeated his words from before, his voice almost nervous. “There is nothing wrong with it.”

“I think I know that, but my brain still won’t stop screaming. And I hate it. God, I hate it so much, Eddie.”His mouth was a grimace, and he turned his eyes back up to Eddies again. “I just want it to stop. If it would only fucking stop I could enjoy this. I could enjoy the feeling of your fingers entwined with mine and I could enjoy your smile and your smell and every fucking thing about you, about us, without completely and utterly hating myself. Please, I just need it to stop.”

“Rich, it will stop.”

“When? I can’t lie that I don’t love being with you, that this doesn’t make me fucking happier than I’ve ever been in my life, Eddie! But no matter how happy it does feel, it would feel, it’ll eventually end and the darkness and the sadness will come back. And I don’t know how to stop it but it hurts so so fucking much!” 

He wanted to pull away, to leave now, to nip this in the bud before it hardly even began and minimize the casualties, but he couldn’t. The feeling of Eddie's forehead against his, the soft cradling of their entwined hands kept him rooted to the spot. “Please,” Eddie whispered, and at that moment Richie knew he was done for. He knew he would do whatever Eddie would ask of him, simply because of how soft his voice was as he said please. “Please just stay with me and try to let yourself be happy for one moment. Just try.”

“Eddie…”

“I can’t promise you that the thoughts will go away straight away, or that some happy moments won't be ruined by them. But one-day happy moments will just be happy, and one day those thoughts will leave forever. They did for me.” 

“How long have you known?” Richie whispered.

“A year. At first, it was just scary. I just felt so alone. And then, it stopped being scary. The darkness slowly started to ebb away and it suddenly didn’t feel like such a wrong thing anymore.” 

The corners in his mouth curled up into a smile that only Richie could recognize, and he loosened his grip on Richie's hands. It was as if he was offering Richie a choice. “So please, just stay? If it gets too much, or you don’t want to, that’s okay, but you need to start trying to let yourself be happy, Rich.”

Richie simply nodded, and so, the boys stayed, hands entwined as they let their heads fall onto each other again. And just for a moment Richie Tozier stopped lying, and let himself be.

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm, I'm not entirely sure I love how this turned out, and I'd love to edit it at a later date, but it was certainly nice to actually write and get out of my slump. I'm not a huge Reddie shipper, but fanfiction of the pairing just has so much potential for angst that it makes my angst loving heart very happy. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed, any comments would be appreciated!


End file.
